Impossible Glamour

by Maggie Marr

  “Webber, you are not marrying my daughter. Get this through your thick skull. If she loved you even half as much as you think she does, she wouldn’t have shucked you and that fuckfest you convinced her was a relationship for a letter of recommendation from Kazowski and a top-tier surgical residency.”

  My heart pounded. Was that the deal Ellen struck? Maybe she hadn’t been nearly as altruistic as Dillon said? Was I totally screwing her future by having this conversation with Steve?

  Nope. No. Way.

  “Not buying what you’re selling. There is no way my Ellen, the Ellen I love, would ever, ever, ever let you buy her spot. On my behalf? Maybe, yes, because I love her and she loves me. But not for herself. Because Steve, Ellen just isn’t built that way.”

  “Webber, you’re going to be very sorry. I’ll do anything I can to keep Ellen away from you. And I mean anything.”

  I stood. I’d said my piece and he’d said his. I leaned forward and planted my palms on the table. “Bring it, Steve-o, because Ellen Legend is mine.”

  Webber out.

  Chapter 24

  Ellen

  Drummond looked like I felt. He moped around the town house with his head hung low and his ears droopy.

  “You miss Agnes, don’t you buddy?” I patted my bed and he jumped up and settled onto my lap. I wrapped my arms around his neck and buried my face into his fur. “I know. I miss them too. I really, really miss them.” The lump that’d been lodged in my throat for weeks grew bigger and the heat in my eyes that I kept fighting claimed my tear ducts. The tears streamed down my face.

  Drummond whined and turned and began licking my face.

  “Buddy, don’t,” I said and gave him another big hug.

  He stood and his tail started to wag. Another whine. He jumped from my bed. Woof!

  I stood and opened the door. So much for comfort from my pup. I walked to the mirror and ran my fingertips under my eyes. This had to stop. The feeling sorry for myself. The waterworks. The brick of sadness lodged in my gut. I pressed my lips together and the tears nearly started again.

  Downstairs, the front door opened and closed. Drummond barked and barked again.

  “Sophia?” I called. She and Trick were supposed to be in San Francisco, but with their schedule I didn’t ever really know where they were.

  Drummond raced into my room, bouncy and barking, and turned toward the door. Racing right behind him was Agnes.

  My heart jolted in my chest. Oh no. No, no, no, no. If Daddy found out that I’d seen Webber, then his career was dead. Pulverized. Annihilated. What was Webber thinking?

  I glanced in the mirror, swallowed, and then headed toward my bedroom door.

  I stopped.

  Webber stood just inside my room.

  My breath hitched in my chest.

  My words froze in my throat.

  The tears dropped from my eyes.

  “What are you doing here?” My voice shook. “You can’t be here, you can’t—”

  “Babe.”

  Webber walked toward me, but I backed away from him, dodging his outstretched arms.

  “No, you have to go! You have to go now.” Rational thought was gone. Vanished. I wanted Webber but I wanted Webber happy more than I wanted him. His happiness, his success, his career, I could endure all this pain if Webber would be happy.

  “Ellen, stop.”

  I crossed my arms over my chest and looked up at him. Through my tears I saw the love on his face, the joy in seeing me, the sadness in witnessing my tears.

  “You’re mine.”

  I shook my head. I closed my eyes. I couldn’t let this happen, I wouldn’t let this happen, I—

  “I love you,” Webber continued in a soft voice. “You love me. And we are meant to be together.”

  “Webber, I can’t. Not with Daddy and what he said. No, you have to leave. Daddy will—”

  “Fuck your dad,” Webber said, his voice calm and strong and clear. “I spoke to your father, and I don’t give a flying f about what Steve-o does or doesn’t do. I told him to bring it, because I don’t care if I end up hawking used cars in Van Nuys, I’m not leaving you.”

  “Webber—”

  “No, Ellen, let me make this really clear. Partner, client list, making movies, all of it means nothing without you in my life.”

  “Are you sure?”

  He nodded with a brilliant smile on his face.

  My heart filled with warmth. The tears in my eyes cleared. A smile spread over my face. “You just made me the happiest girl in the world.”

  “I mean, you are getting the most ungettable man in Hollywood.” Webber moved in and pulled me close. “You know who missed you even more than I did?”

  I bit my lower lip and shook my head. Here came the classic inappropriate sexual Webber line. I could already feel against my hip how much I’d been missed by Big Boy, but I’d let Webber have his fun, because part of what I loved were his jokes. His horrible, awful, inappropriate jokes.

  “Who,” I asked and tilted my head.

  “Agnes, babe,” Webber said and pressed his head to mine. “Agnes.”

  “I’m shocked, Webber, thought you’d go much lower than that.”

  “Babe, I mean, of course Big Boy did too, but—”

  “Kiss me, Webber.”

  “Babe, I promise you will never have to ask me twice.”

  Webber

  Two days later, I sat in the family room of Steve Legend’s home, a place I’d never thought I’d enter again. Hell, if not for Dillon’s words and the rest of the A-list crew, I would have already started looking for that car salesman job in Van Nuys.

  Mamacita Delgado and Steve sat side by side on the giant couch, Ellen and I across from them. Awkward hellos and a hug from Ellen’s mom were how far we’d gotten. I settled into the chair opposite Steve. Ellen reached out and clasped my hand. Steve’s gaze went from our fingertips touching to shooting me with a look that really might kill.

  “Daddy has something he wishes to say to you both.” Ellen’s mom clasped her hands on her lap, and while there was a smile on her lips there was steel in her eyes.

  Yowza! Note to never cross Ellen’s mamacita. If I thought Steve-o looked tough, he had nada on Ms. Delgado.

  “Steve?” She elbowed him in the ribs and her eyebrow lifted.

  Steve’s nostrils flared but he nodded and looked from her to us.

  “Ellen, I love you. I will always love you, and if this ass—”

  Another sharp jab to the ribs.

  Steve cleared his throat. “If Webber makes you happy, then your mother and I are happy.” His gaze hardened and he turned his cold stare to me. “I…we give you our blessing.”

  “Thank you, Daddy.” Ellen jumped up and wrapped her arms around Steve’s neck.

  I knew he wasn’t a complete douche because his eyes reddened like he might cry and he wrapped his arms around Ellen. Damn, Steve did love his kids. No matter how completely inappropriate he might be in how he expressed his love for them, he did love them.

  Ellen then wrapped her mother into her arms. “Thank you, Mama.”

  “Ellen, poquita, what makes your heart sing only gives me joy.” A giant smile spread over her mom’s face.

  They started talking about brunches, and weddings, and Sophia and Amanda. They stood and walked out of the room. Steve leaned forward. I leaned in too. We were inches apart. Mano a mano.

  “I don’t like this,” Steve said. “I was coerced.”

  “Kind of like Kazowski?” I lifted my eyebrow. I’d discovered what Steve had done to get that letter of recommendation. Didn’t take too long to sort out when my UCLA Alumni newsletter arrived, touting the new surgical chair dedicated to Doctor Lynn Kazowski.

  “You didn’t tell Ellen, did you?”

  “I won’t if you won’t.”

  Steve nodded. “I didn’t need to do it. Ellen deserves a residency. That doctor had a pole up her ass about me and this thing we had fifteen years ago.”
<
br />   “You? And Kazowski?” Steve’s dick knew no limits.

  Steve nodded. “My dirty laundry, I took care of it.”

  Fair enough. No need for Ellen to have to hear about yet another woman Steve had scored with.

  He leaned closer. “If you ever hurt her, I will fuck you up,” Steve rasped out in his best make-my-day kind of voice.

  “Steve-o, my man, if I ever hurt her, I’ll let you.” I cocked my eyebrow.

  A grin surfaced on Steve’s face. “Webber, you may not be a Nobel laureate or a US senator, but you sure as hell can make me laugh.”

  “Well, I’m not opposed to working on the senator thing. We should talk.”

  Steve squinted his eyes. An idea that he’d not considered and yet…might be possible. “Yeah, Webber, we definitely should.” He slapped his hand on my back and we stood and followed Ellen and her mom toward the kitchen and a future filled with family, crazy, and lots of love.

  The End

  About This Series

  Thanks for reading Impossible Glamour. I hope you enjoyed it! Reviews help other readers find books and I appreciate all reviews, whether positive or negative. Please take a moment and write a review for Impossible Glamour.

  You’ve just read the sixth book in the Glamour Series. Books in the series:

  1. Hard Glamour

  2. Broken Glamour

  3. Fast Glamour

  4. Easy Glamour

  5. Luxe Glamour

  6. Impossible Glamour

  Would you like to know when my next book is available? You can sign up for my new release e-mail list on my Website at http://www.maggiemarr.net.

  Follow me on Twitter at : http://twitter.com/maggiemarr, or like my Facebook page at https://www.facebook.com/pages/Maggie-Marr-Books/168071873226783?ref=ts.

  Book two of The Eligible Billionaires series is out. Just click the link if you'd like to read an excerpt from One Night for Love.

  Also by Maggie Marr

  The Hollywood Girls Club Series

  Hollywood Girls Club

  Secrets of the Hollywood Girls Club

  Hollywood Hit

  Hollywood Girls Club the Series

  The Eligible Billionaires Series

  Can’t Buy Me Love

  One Night for Love

  A Christmas Billionaire

  Last Call for Love

  Running from Love

  A Forever Love

  The Powder Springs Series

  Courting Trouble

  The Christmas Wish

  The Glamour Series

  Hard Glamour

  Broken Glamour

  Fast Glamour

  Easy Glamour

  Luxe Glamour

  Impossible Glamour

  About the Author

  Maggie Marr is an attorney, author, and producer. She began her career in the entertainment industry pushing the mail cart but rose to the position of motion picture literary agent. She has written for TV, film, and celebrities. Maggie has been featured on KCRW's The Business and reviewed by Publishers Weekly, Kirkus, and Romantic Times. She lives in LA with her family.

  Maggie is eternally grateful for the graciousness and support of her readers.

  Please visit her Website at: http://maggiemarr.net.

  Twitter: http://twitter.com/maggiemarr

  Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Maggie-Marr-Books/168071873226783?ref=ts

  Acknowledgments

  Thank you to my readers, it is because of each of you, that I have a career as a writer, thank you! Thank you to my agent Kristin Nelson. Thank you to her entire team at NLA. Thank you to Lori Bennett the NLA Digital guru who makes everything digital work. Thank you to Angie Hodapp for her patience and interior design of all my paperbacks. Thank you to Sarah Hansen for another great cover. Thank you to Anne Victory my editor, for her awesome editorial skills and to Crystalle Berry, my proofreader, who makes every book shine. Sarah Altman, virtual assistant extraordinaire, thank you.

  Thank you to RWA, LARA, WFWA, and OCC who provide me with loads of information and fabulous friends. Thank you to Club Indie and Marie Force and her self-publishing loop.

  Thank you to an exceptional group of women readers who support my work and keep me motivated and moving forward, Lindsy Henderson, Melissa Lamoureaux, Rosemary Feil, Sheila Nolin Schwartz, Roxana Perez Hidalgo, Debra Knotts, Megan McCaule, Laura Akers Collins, Kimberly Dawn, Victoria Schultz, Denise Boyd, Michelle Haxton, Amanda Weber, Christy McGlauchlen, and Kathy Church. I appreciate each of you. Thank you for your kindness and support.

  Thank you to my family and friends especially: Margaret L. Marr, Nancy Veskerna, Lauren Harrison, Gavin White, Nealie White, Linda and Bill Henderson, Lindsy and Mark Henderson, Eloise and Dixie Marr, Gayle Leftwich, Joyce and Tom Leahy, Paula and David Glasscock, Garrett L. Marr, Amy and Brent Zacky, Victoria and Karl Makinen, Sheryl and Steven Ross, Peggy Cafferty, Maria Seager, Sylvie Fox, Beverly Diehl, Kady Ambrose, Rebekah Ganiere, Debbie Decker, Cami Brite, Beth Yarnell, Debra Holland, Christine Ashworth, Cami Brite, Chandra Years, Sarah Vance-Tompkins, Julia Blake, Jane Porter, Megan Crane, and Bob. To my husband and children, thank you for loving me no matter what.

  An Excerpt from One Night for Love

  One Night for Love, book two in The Eligible Billionaires Series, now available from Maggie Marr.

  Chapter One

  “I want it harder,” Prim said. A grunt came from behind her. “God, yes.” Warmth pulsed through Prim’s body. Tingles shot from her spine and into her limbs. “Yes, deeper, deeper.” The warmth in her core puddled. Her muscles loosened. Her eyes closed. She soaked in the pleasure of a strong, hard, touch. To be stroked and kneaded and rubbed.

  This was paradise.

  “Lady got too much tension in her shoulder.” Layla’s hand supple with oil trailed along the fine vertebrae of Prim’s neck. “Muscles still knotted in here”—her deft fingers pulsed along Prim’s left shoulder—“even after six days of massage.”

  Air wooshed from Prim’s lungs. She opened her eyes and stared at the terra cotta tile floor beneath the massage table. What could she say? Even with the sun, surf, and sand she couldn’t forget what she was about to return to in California.

  Gargantuan changes and potentially a huge mess of an existence.

  “Lady’s lower back is still tight.” Layla's fingertips fanned out and Prim felt the heat in her core melt. Relaxation oozed through her. “Lady needs to be with a man.”

  Prim jerked her head from the circular cushion. “A what?”

  “Head down,” Layla pressed on the back of Prim’s head. “A man. Lady, needs to be with a man to release the tension in her body.”

  Prim resettled her forehead and cheeks against the cushion. Her sex life, of lack thereof wasn’t something she really wished to discuss with her masseuse. Of course Layla's hands had kneaded nearly every inch of Prim's body for the last six days. The massage, each day, was a high point of Prim’s existence at La Meridian Ora at which she’d spent the last six days trying to decompress, relax, and prepare for what she would return to in L.A.

  “Thought Lady would find a friend by now,” Layla continued. “Every day I walk up to house and think, this is the morning pretty Lady has no more tension here.” Layla’s thumb dug deep into the muscle of Prim’s left shoulder.

  “Oooow,” Prim whined. Layla’s thumb hurt so good.

  “Lady is pretty. She is young. She has beautiful body. Not married. No kids. She has private house, private beach at resort.” With each word, Layla rubbed her hands deeper into the muscles of Prim’s back. “She on holiday without man, but plenty of men at resort on holiday without a woman.”

  Prim closed her eyes, Layla was beginning to sound more and more like Prim’s mother in London.

  “So why, I ask, why has Lady, while she here, not found friend to take care of all the tension in these muscles?” Layla pulled the heavy heated towel up over Prim’s back and took her strong hands and stroked down Prim’s left leg. />
  “God, yes,” Prim whispered between her teeth.

  “You not answer me.” Layla laughed. “Maybe Lady not know answer.”

  “Men are pigs.” Prim said. There were two Prim wanted to gut right now.

  “You’re not having sex.” Layla said. “I feel it in your muscles. I see it in your joints. Too tight. No sex.”

  Prim’s sexual frustration bubbled through her chest and replaced the relaxation that Layla’s hands provided.

  “I just haven’t found anyone,” Prim said. “No one that I want to be with.”

  “Don’t have to keep the man, just have to use the man. Don’t keep the pig for a pet, just use it for what you need.”

  Prim smiled. She liked the way Layla thought.

  “Done,” Layla said. She tickled Prim’s right toes. Prim sat up and pulled the sheet around her body.

  “Lady leave tomorrow?” Layla asked. She wiped her hands on a towel.

  Prim nodded. “Early. I return to work on Monday.”

  “Maybe you get lucky tonight. With all the massage your muscles are ready for a man. The heat will explode for you. Maybe you find one at Devils and Angels?”

  Prim screwed up her face and shook her head. “Not going.” She slid from the massage table. She grasped the table with her hand. The first few steps, after a massage, were always tough. “Leaving early tomorrow morning, spending the night here.”